


lover is a day.

by mygaykaspbrak



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Breakups, Co-workers, Co-workers to lovers, Descriptions of sex, Eventual Feelings, F/M, FWB, Friends to Lovers, Like, Lovers to Friends, M/M, Partners to Lovers, Photography, Sex, Strangers to Lovers, also they switch, be aware !!!!!, but he repressed it bc it’s unprofessional, car makeouts, feels catching, initial feelings, oof, richie tozier is the least professional person ever, sad partings, scandalous, sometimes richie tops, stan is Smitten, stan is a top sometimes, stan uris is sleeps w his photographers often, this is an angsty fic!!!!!, this is sad y’all, uhhhhhhhh sex, y eeet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 19:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13554177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mygaykaspbrak/pseuds/mygaykaspbrak
Summary: stan just wanted to get the job done. he didn’t want this to happen, not again, but could he resist those dark curls, that shit eating grin, or the constant unprofessionalism? probably not.richie didn’t just want to work with his inspiration, he wanted this to happen. and by god, it was going to.(title taken from Lover Is a Day by Cuco)





	lover is a day.

**Author's Note:**

> so uhhhhhhh yeah this was rushed As Fuck and i plan on making future chapters longer and not so damn forced s o. i apologize for this but uh yeah you gotta read this to fully understand everything sorta ???? yeah just bear with me ,,,,,,

“Who’s this?” 

The sun shined brightly in Stan’s eyes, the corners squinting in response. A slight breeze passed by Stan and tore through his thin button down and he shivered in response. He dusted off his gray pants, taking great care of the expensive clothes from a company endorsing him. His lips pursed when he saw who he would apparently working with, most certainly not impressed by the aura and physical appearance of him. The dirt road they were standing in crunching under Stan’s feet as he and his manager approached the ridiculously dressed man with a camera hanging around his neck, shoulder bag slung across him. His manager opened his mouth to respond to Stan’s question, but he was quickly interrupted by the other man.

“I’m Richie Tozier, your photographer?” The brightly colored clothed man would question, a little bit taken back by Stan’s hostile tone. He assumed Stan would know of him, he was going to have to spend all day in a fuckin’ field with him, (not Richie’s first choice, for sure) and take pictures of him for hours. 

Stan stared at Richie, and Richie couldn’t figure out what he had done wrong. The shorter man turned his head to talk to his manager who was there to monitor the photoshoot. 

“This is the extremely talented and charming Richie?” He asked him, flickering his eyes over to Richie’s direction, making the dark haired male shift uncomfortably in his place. 

It hadn’t even been thirty minutes yet and it seemed to be all going to shit. Stan Uris was a world famous model, mainly working for the fashion industry but would occasionally work for a variety of other industries or privately for photographers that had a particular liking to Stan’s work. Richie was already nervous enough, he had never worked with someone so famous before. 

Richie was most certainly not as well-known as Stan, and Richie thought he wasn’t even half as talented. Yes, he had worked with rising models, and he had a few known gems, but he was nothing compared to Stan popularity wise. If Richie said or did one wrong thing, his image and career could be completely fucked. He had just become more of a credited artist, making some sort of a steady income off of his passion. Richie also cared about making a friend. Stan could’ve been interesting, and Richie had made plenty of friends around the work place before. He was certainly all about friends.

Stan was not. 

Sure, he had the occasional friend, those co-workers that he just seemed to like a little more then others, but the only time he interacted with them outside the workplace was to organize the workplace. And he certainly did not interact with the photographers outside of the workplace. It was unprofessional and unnecessary, and why would he when he had sweet Ben Hanscom to do it for him? Ben had a particular knack to organization, and he always found someone extremely talented and hard-working for Stan.

So he didn’t understand why Ben had hired Richie to do the job.

“Yes, Stan, he’s one of the best photographers I’ve ever hired. You wanted someone to get the job done, and well, Richie’s just about one of the best people to do so.” Ben finished, confident in his own decisions. He knew about Richie from his girlfriend, Beverly, who he met through Stan. Beverly herself was a fashion designer and a makeup artist, and organized much of Stan’s makeup and wardrobe for shoots. Richie and Bev had been friends for a while apparently, and when Ben was complaining to his girlfriend about needing a new photographer, she immediately suggested Richard Tozier and even showed him a few of his pieces. They spoke to him, made Ben feel something, and knew Stan would appreciate his work once they got going.

Richie smiled, just a bit, enjoying the compliment from one of his new friends. 

“Thanks, Ben.” He responded.

“Whatever, whatever. Let’s just get this going. I don’t want it to get too chilly out. I hate the cold.” 

And with that, Stan walked into the grass fields across from them, a slight sway in his hips, and all Richie could really do is stare.

God, he was hot.

And not the kind of just casual hot, like “Ah yes, I would raw him if given the chance.” It was more like, “Holy fuck, this guy, I’d literally do anything he asked me to if he’d just go down on me.” Richie was digging it. 

What was so weird about it, was that he felt that emotion in his heart as well. Not just the familiar turned-on feeling he felt in his stomach whenever an attractive guy would flirt with him. And what was so weird about that, is that Richie had just met the dude. All he really knew about him is that he was famous, well dressed, sassy, and did not like Richie Tozier (for some unknown reason.)  
Richie blew it off, assuming he just had a major thing for Stan, not really considering it could be more then that, especially since they had just met.

“Rich? Richie?” 

“Fuck, yeah? Sorry, sorry,” Richie answered, Ben’s voice snapping him back into the grass fields and sunny sky. “What’s wrong?”

“I just got a call. It’s Bev. It’s kind of a private situation, but I have to leave. I won’t be able to take Stan home. Could you?” Ben pleaded, worried Stan wouldn’t have a way back to his house.

“Yeah yeah, of course, text me his address?” 

“Will do. You’re the best, Tozier. Have fun, but don’t be an ass.” Ben added, chuckling a little as he left the dirt road and climbed into his Jeep. 

“Dick,” he mumbled under his breath, still smiling just a bit, glad to have someone like Ben to play around with and trust. 

“Are you coming or what?” 

Stan had a hand placed on his hip, rolling his eyes, clearly annoyed with the amount of time it was taking Richie to get started with the photoshoot.

“Sorry, Uris, but your manager just told me I’m taking you home.” 

Stan audibly groaned, throwing his head back. Richie pursed his lips, tired of the way he was being treated, but decided he was going to ignore this. He would still try to pursue Stan. Even if it meant being his Richie self, he was going to do it. 

————————————————————————————————————————————————

Once Richie had set up all of his needed supplies and actually got going, he completely understood why Stan was so famous. Stan was a graceful person, every move he made, every single step and every single head tilt and readjustment, every pose, all of it was full of poise, sincerity, and beauty. Richie ate it up, taking as many opportunities as possible to take more and more photos, experimenting with focus, lighting, and angle. 

Though of course, he couldn’t stop himself from letting his Richie-like personality from shining through.

“Damn, Stanny, you look real good with your arm up like that. You been working’ out?” He probed, giggling at his own joke as he adjusted the camera’s lens. 

“Shut the fuck up, Ronnie, Roan, whatever your damn name is,”

“Richie.”

“Whatever. Shut the fuck up, Richie.”

“I would, but you’re smiling.”

Stan had in fact, been smiling. He couldn’t believe himself. Did he seriously give into Richie’s attempt at charm? 

Apparently so.

The blood rushed up to his cheeks and he shook his curls.

“I was…” He trailed off, trying to think of a good excuse to give Richie rather then the truth.

“I was thinking about something funny Ben said earlier. Something about working out.” He watched Richie look up at him from the camera and right into Stan’s eyes. 

“You’re real funny, Uris, but that ain’t true. You already fallin’ for me, Stanny?”

His cheeks grew warmer and he hated himself for it. He was supposed to be mad at Richie. And he was! Sort of. He didn’t know how to describe it. It was more like Stan was frustrated he laughed at Richie’s joke, rather then shut it down. He wanted to tell him to quit being unprofessional and get back to his job, but he let out a small chuckle.

“In your dreams, Richie.”

“Huh. You remembered my name.” Richie smiled, the comment meant to be a joke, but it certainly did affect him more then he wanted it to. He shook his head.

“Go ahead and sit down, I’m going to see what I can do with this kind of shot.”

————————————————————————————————————————————————

Near the end of the photoshoot, Richie was feeling quite proud of himself. He had made many jokes to Stan, most of them successful. The ones that really got to Stan were the ones involving Richie’s own impersonation of Stan’s awkward interviews, the terrible one’s where the interviewer wold question Stan’s sexual identity, which made him uncomfortable.

He usually kept quiet whenever Richie would try to flirt.

As he packed up his things, he felt himself watching the smaller man sitting in the grass, playing with a piece of it, a warm and content smile on his face.

Stan was certainly happy. He couldn’t deny himself what he thought about Richie. Was it love? Certainly not, no, he had just met the man. Did he love the playful banter, shutting down Richie’s jokes and laughing when he did one of his voices? Yes. That’s what scared him. But one thing was for sure, if Richie kept making sexual jokes about Stan, he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep his professional persona. 

Yeah, Richie was attractive. Richie was damn fine, if he was going to be completely honest. His tall and lanky figure that could fit so well on top of Stan, maybe even up against a wall, kissing at his neck and palming his dick with his long fingers. He could just imagine pulling at his hair, moaning under Richie’s aggressive touch. 

Once he realized he was having these thoughts, he grew more upset with himself. 

Fuck, he thought. No, Stanley. Not appropriate.

“You ready to go?” Richie approached Stan with a wide smile, still as happy as ever.

“Ah, yeah, just um, let me get my bag.”

He pushed himself up off of the grass, running to get his bag and quickly throwing it over his shoulder. 

“Alright, take me home, Tozier.” 

The entered Richie’s truck and Stan quickly flew on his seatbelt. He took a deep breath, exhausted from the photoshoot, so ready to go home.

“Okay, Ben texted me the address. I’m guessing we’ll be there in around ten to fifteen minutes,” Richie adjusted the top mirror before shoving his keys in the ignition, starting up the car and checking the dirt road ahead of him. 

“Got any music in mind?” Richie gestured to the stereo before pulling his glove compartment and revealing all sorts of CD’s and tapes. 

Stan stared at the pile, a bit intimidated. 

“No, I don’t have anything in mind. You can pick.”  
Stan stuck an elbow on the door next him and watched Richie, the awkwardness between the two somehow increasing as soon as the stepped foot into the car.

“Oh, okay. I’ll just, um,” He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a CD, illegible words in a variety of colored sharpies written on it. He opened the disk, taking it out and sliding it into the player.

“Bigmouth Strikes Again” by The Smiths softy began playing in the background as Richie drove forward onto the road, the bumpy path causing the car to shake just a bit. 

The silence was unbearable. Richie so desperately wanted to say something to Stan, to ask him more about who he was, but wasn’t confident enough to do so, so instead continued to drive down the road, extremely frustrated he wasn’t able to say something, anything, to the extremely attractive male sitting next to him.

Stan was frustrated, too. He too wanted to ask Richie about his life, where he had learned his skills, how he knew Ben, and much more. He was too scared of this, and Stan was not the most forward man in the world, so like Richie, he decided against it, choosing instead to take in Richie’s profile, his solid jawline and perfect cheekbones helping Stan become weak in the knees (though he was sitting down.)

After around fifteen minutes had passed and the playlist had ended, they pulled into Stan’s driveway, the front porch lamp the only sight of light provided throughout the dark night. Richie was happy their nearly twenty minutes of torture had gone away, and he stopped his engine. 

“I, uh, had a really great time, Stan. You work really well, and you’re damn good at what you do.”

Stan looked up to Richie, extremely surprised of the genuine compliment that had so easily escaped his mouth.

“Oh, thanks, I guess. You’re a good photographer, I suppose.”

Richie recognized what this feeling was. It felt hot, it felt heavy, it felt exciting.

“Yeah? Well, you’re damn beautiful in front of my lens, Stan.”

Stan felt it too. He wanted to lean over the dashboard and kiss Richie. That’s all he could hope for. 

But he didn’t have to.

All Stan did was open his mouth, and Richie had leaned over the middle, placing a hand on Stan’s jaw as he kissed him. Stan didn’t know if he wanted to to push Richie off and yell at him for doing such a thing, or kiss him back.


End file.
